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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29215551">Siren's Medicine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kavfka/pseuds/Kavfka'>Kavfka</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drugs, Horror, POV Second Person, Psychological Horror, Sirens, Surreal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:54:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,455</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29215551</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kavfka/pseuds/Kavfka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It seems you have found yourself in quite the conundrum...<br/>"The boards under your feet send wails to your ears, and there’s no doubt in your mind that they’ve also reached someone else’s. The light switches are unfortunately at the end of the hallway, which seems to stretch and tilt with the way your eyes have yet to adjust to the darkness...</p>
<p>There.</p>
<p>You hear it, that uncanny rattle. It rings hollow and seems to bounce down the walls of the hallway, pinning you in your tracks."<br/>How will you get yourself out of this one?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Siren's Medicine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ominous clunking sounds greet you as you venture further down the hallway. You realize with dread that they are coming from the kitchen just beyond the furthest doorway. As you carefully walk towards the noise, the pit in your stomach grows ever deeper as you are able to catch a glimpse into the room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s dark.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The lights are completely off, though there is clearly someone orchestrating the chaotic cacophony that grows louder as you draw nearer. The light from the hallway allows you to make out a vague silhouette.</p>
<p>           The symphony of haphazard clanging suddenly stops, and so do you. Your feet remain still as your heart beats out a faster rhythm that has your ears ringing. Surely, they heard you.</p>
<p>           The figure moves, clearly reaching for something indistinguishable on the granite counter that’s barely visible from your vantage point beyond the room. You fear for just a moment that the figure is planning on wandering closer, but instead it sinks further into the kitchen where you can no longer decipher it from shadow.</p>
<p>           With your feet light and your breath held tight in your chest you approach the entrance. Once you have a firm grasp on the door frame you reach your hand into the darkness and feel the wall closest to you. There.</p>
<p>           The room is filled from corner to corner with light as you flick the switch. Through squinted eyes you first notice the pans scattered about the floor and counters, next your eyes finally fall upon the culprit at the center of it all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You hesitate, “Kals?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I look at you with an annoyed, expectant expression.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No.” Is the confusing reply you receive.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You feel helpless yet again as you connect the dots once you spot the objects in my hands and littered over the counter.</p>
<p>           I gently place the small bottles that were in my hands next to the ones currently lining the countertop. My back faces you as I plug the blender in front of me into the wall outlet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But why?” You dare to ponder out loud, not expecting a valid answer in return.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“The solution.” Is the answer I grant to you.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You stare in silence and confusion as I one-by-one open the pink and the semi-translucent blue bottles. The room is again filled with noise as the content of each bottle is emptied among the blades of the blender. A sound similar to that of rolling dice or a spinning prize wheel; a sound that would raise no alarms unless given the context.</p>
<p>           You don a blank stare as I forgo the lid and press the button. A pink cloud of dust instantly kicks up as the blades start to work. The whine of the machine has your ears ringing for the second time.</p>
<p>           The mound of tablets is turned into fine sand and it is over, all in under the span of a single minute. The room returns to eerie silence as your eyes follow my hand that is now reaching in between the stilled blades.</p>
<p>           It is time for you to go; turning around on shaky legs you stretch your arm to reestablish a grip on the doorframe.</p>
<p>As you retreat down the hall from this waking nightmare, your still-ringing ears are incapable of shutting out the mantra being spoken; akin to a curse laying claim to your very being.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They are joined.” You hear me call out.</p>
<p>‘This is inescapable,’ you fret to yourself.</p>
<p>‘There is no solace here, there never was, I am truly trapped in this wasteland of broken barriers and misplaced trusts.’</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And in this assumption, you finally are correct.</p>
<p> </p>
<hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>           ‘Not again’ is what you think to yourself as you step through the familiar hallway. The boards under your feet send wails to your ears, and there’s no doubt in your mind that they’ve also reached someone else’s. The light switches are unfortunately at the end of the hallway, which seems to stretch and tilt with the way your eyes have yet to adjust to the darkness.</p>
<p>           You hesitantly place your hand on the wallpaper to manage your bearings as you slowly place a foot in front of the other. The cracks in the wall had never given you much thought before, in the daylight, but now it’s the central thing in your mind that gives you the restraint not to burst into a sprint to get to the lights. The cracks curve and split as if a spider had designed their ridges with the intent of mocking a series of country back-roads in the middle of nowhere.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>           There.</p>
<p>           You hear it, that uncanny rattle. It rings hollow and seems to bounce down the walls of the hallway, pinning you in your tracks.</p>
<p>After wavering on your feet for a few seconds you realize that your fingers are no longer resting on the wall. Without the labyrinth of cracks and lines you feel isolated, lost as you retrieve your hand and instead clutch your other wrist.</p>
<p>           You gently make progress down the hallway, stepping as if the ground may buckle and give way at any moment. Adrenaline provides a soothing blanket to hide the prickly pain of your fingernails pinching and worrying your wrists. The switches are closer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>           Again.</p>
<p>           The sound beckons to you from behind the door beside the light switches. A sorrowful Siren’s song if you ever heard one; no noticeable cadence or tune, only the monotonous voice of what can only come from something wholly modern in its making. That’s to say, lifeless, materialistic, truly and utterly empty in its unnatural nature.</p>
<p>           You’re finally approaching the switches. There’s no hesitation as you flick them on when they immediately come within your reach.</p>
<p>But as your eyes suddenly take in the swell of light filling in around you, you notice something. The sound… it has stopped. The lights weren’t the deus ex machina that they were made out to be in your mind. If anything, they’ve sent you to the proverbial brink, and are ready to sit by and watch you cascade into misfortune by your own hands.</p>
<p>           Now that you’re closer, your eyes are drawn again to the door. Behind which lies the silence akin to the respectful trepidation housed within a strict cathedral. There is no point in avoiding facing the music, so you boldly rotate the doorknob with swiftness.</p>
<p>           As the hinges protest and the wood creaks, more and more of the room is revealed. The hallway lights seem to bar themselves entry, and instead yield to the blue hue that is cast in the space. The blue emanates from the television screen and spills and slips over the floor, coffee table, and couch that are directly across from it.</p>
<p>           But where the light is fuzzy and subdued resting on the environment, it is the opposite for the figure sitting hunched over on the couch. The blue is choppy and unbending to their shoulders and face, reflecting the appearance of a glitch. Fragmented and splintered in such a form that could only result from the machinations of man.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hello,” it echoes. The movement of speech seeming to shuffle and shift the blue in an almost mesmerizing display.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Your gaze tracks down to their hands that lay in their lap, rested and encircling an all too familiar bottle. Now you must face your initial conclusions that tugged at your mind when you were first startled awake.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Kals” you state assuredly, and continue by questioning “What happens now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>For the first time your gazes lock and you find your answer. The eyes are distant, searching in a way that you can already ear the response before it breaks the stillness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’ve known for a while.” Kals calmly says, “It’ll feel like a mere tick has passed when you finally sit in my shoes. When you relive this juncture through parallel eyes you may answer alike.</p>
<p>“I will grant you my solace with my parting insight that blends into my soul and is indistinguishable” this sentence came in a whisper and the next in a shallow vibrating hum of a voice,</p>
<p>“What do they have for me there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>           And in the blink of an eye, the couch was bare. With a flutter of your eyelashes you take in the now completely soft shade of blue encompassing everything as if miles of ocean lay atop your head, crushing and drowning you in the bright sapphire shimmers of brilliant casts and nuances.</p>
<p>You lean forward, reaching to the once occupied space and collecting the lonely abandoned bottle. As you exit the room and wander back through the hallway, you find yourself soothed by the monotonous Siren’s song as you shake the bottle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And what a forgiving song it rings.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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